“Prince Pernam.”
He bowed. “Lady Iseulte. We are ready to depart. Kaherdyn is with the horses in the courtyard, and Esmerée has the children ready. You may travel how you will, riding with your brother or with us in the wagon. But time is short. Mark may always change his mind.”
“I must tell you again, my lord, how grateful I am for all your efforts on our behalf. You have made the past week bearable, I don’t know how.”
Pernam’s arm slid around her shoulders and held her tight. “It is a dark time indeed. But there are better days ahead. When you are back in Lanascol, those boys will light your life. In five years you will hardly remember the woman you are today.”
Iseulte wiped a tear away. “I shall not forget Tristan so soon.”
“You will have his image ever before you in his sons. Remember, too, that you are welcome to visit us, to leave the boys with us for any space of time. Esme loves them for his sake as much as you do.”
Iseulte smiled sadly. “He sowed love wherever he went. He was a rare man, both brave and tender, both warrior and bard. He let everything touch him. He turned no one away. I feel so for Sir Dinadan. I have never seen such grief in a grown man. How did you ever persuade the King to send him to Lyonesse? I thought Markion would kill him, too.”
Pernam sighed. “My brother’s temper is quickly aroused, but quickly cooled once the cause is settled. In a calm moment, I made him see sense. He has no time to divide Cornwall by seeking vengeance against men who were Tristan’s friends. He has Britain to think of, or what is left of it. He has Saxons to fight. And unless he wants to face an invading army led by Tristan the Younger in twenty years, he had better acknowledge the boy’s claim to Lyonesse and let someone trustworthy keep his kingdom for him. Mark agreed to it readily enough once I laid it out thus. After all, it costs him nothing and gains him much. Old Guvranyl will go with Dinadan, I think, unless he retires to Dumnonia.”
“Bless you, Prince Pernam,” Iseulte whispered. “No one else will die, and Tristan’s sons will have a future.”
“Perhaps.” Pernam frowned. “It depends on what happens to Britain. In twenty years Lyonesse may be Saxon land if it hasn’t sunk into the sea.”
“God forbid.”
“Raise those boys to be leaders. For when Markion dies, they are his heirs.”
Iseulte looked startled at the thought. “Not just Lyonesse, but Cornwall?”
“Not only Cornwall,” he returned gruffly, “but Britain.”
She caught her breath and looked down at the twin graves. “What a gift you have bequeathed me, my love,” she whispered. “I am to be the mother of kings.” She crossed herself slowly. Good-bye, dear Tristan. I shall never see you more, but in my dreams. She straightened and took Pernam’s arm. “See how the ivy you planted over his grave has grown and entwined itself around the hazel over hers. In just three days. It is a miracle, my lord. A sign that they are still one, even in death. And that God has forgiven them.”
Pernam shook his head as he led her away. “I shall never understand your God, who first damns men and then forgives them for their sins. The Great Goddess is perfectly clear about transgressions: Either a thing is wrong or it is not.”
Iseulte smiled gently. “That is because our God became a man and sinned Himself. Our God knows the value of forgiveness. Our God is love.”
Pernam raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s His most redeeming feature. I shall miss you when we part, my lady queen.”
She frowned up at him. “Not queen, my lord, but—” She stopped as his kind smile broadened.
“You forget who he was, the man you married. He was King of Lyonesse.”
Iseulte bowed her head as they stepped out into the cold rain of the courtyard. “But I thought of him,” she said in a low voice, “as a musician whose music healed my soul.”
Pernam handed her into the covered warmth of the wagon. “He was always torn between the two sides of his nature. It was his fate. He was born between the stars.”
When Markion returned to Tintagel eight months later, bloodied from the Saxon wars, he cut down the hazel sapling over Essylte’s grave and ripped up the ivy over Tristan’s. Nevertheless, they grew again within a fortnight. Twice more Mark cut them down; twice more they grew. Ill health and bitter wounds sapped his will at last, and with a disgusted wave of the hand he let them be. The ivy entwined about the hazel until they grew to be one plant, indistinguishable from one another except in their foundations, and climbed together toward the sun.
THE HOUSE OF CORNWALL
THE HOUSE OF GWYNEDD
THE HOUSE OF GUENT
Also by Nancy McKenzie
Published by Ballantine Books
QUEEN OF CAMELOT
GRAIL PRINCE
PRAISE FOR NANCY McKENZIE
Queen of Camelot
“A rich and powerful tapestry of words layered in legend and myth . . . Surely Merlin’s magic reached out to touch Nancy McKenzie’s pen.”
—ELAINE COFFMAN
“Guinevere comes alive—a strong, resourceful, and compassionate woman, accessible to modern folk . . . McKenzie makes a quantum leap in defining the character of Guinevere as a real, flesh-and-blood woman. The Arthur-Guinevere-Lancelot triangle comes alive as well—believable, poignant, and bearing the seeds of tragedy.”
—KATHERINE KURTZ
Grail Prince
“Stunning . . . McKenzie continues to put her own unique spin on the Arthurian legend. . . . Brimming with romance, myth, and magic, this intriguing retelling of an ever-appealing fable will appease fans eager for twists and turns in the lives and times of King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table.”
—Booklist
“Fans of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Mists of Avalon series and Persia Woolley’s Guinevere trilogy will be delighted with this addition to the modern
interpretation of Arthurian legend. . . . This tale of abiding love and enduring hope is highly recommended.”
—Library Journal
A Del Rey® Book
Published by The Random House Publishing Group
Copyright © 2004 by Nancy Affleck McKenzie
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Prince of Dreams is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Del Rey is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
www.delreydigital.com
Library of Congress Control Number: 2003097809
eISBN: 978-0-345-47201-4
v3.0
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